Between Barriers
by CandyDrippinLikeWater
Summary: Let's explore the lives of the Luteces before meeting, their time of meeting, and eventually the time of their (SPOILERS) deaths.


_Hello, lovelys. This was supposed to be writing practice but it escalated and I ended up liking it, so... yeah.  
_I plan to continue it so motivation would help, thanks.

Disclamer: Everything Bioshock related belongs to Ken Levine and Irrational Games.  
-

Chapter One

Robert had once been told 'a pistol is lighter once the trigger is pulled' but to him it was much, much heavier. And so was the body he would soon be dragging. The man before him stumbled, and then fell flat on his face. His blood was darker beneath the moon light.

"He could have at least given me the decency to shoot him in the front."

He stepped towards the corpse, gun still in hand, still aiming. He glanced around the alley but saw only the light of lamp posts and the scurrying street animals.

"Did you see where the other one went?"

Robert turned to the man behind him; an elder man, possibly mid-thirties, wearing a bowler hat and a sporting a moustache, his partner in crime. He had been chasing the companion of the one Robert had just shot.

"Apologies, Peter" Robert began "but I seemed to have been too distracted." he motioned towards the body on the floor.

"Oh," Peter kneeled down besides the body "this one used to play for the Barbershop Quintet, right? What's he doing here?" Peter pulled a wrinkled note from the man's pocket. "Ah," he laughed and handed it to Robert, "you'll like this."

"What are you on about?" unfolding the paper and bringing it closer to his face, Robert read aloud, "If you want those thousands... proposition... equipment-" he mumbled the rest to himself, burrowing his brows and cringing his nose.

"What?"

"This poor sod died working for that abominable thug, Jeremiah Fink."

Peter stood up and took back the note to read it himself as if for more confirmation.

"But why would Fink hire someone to steal your equipment? What've you done to him?"

Robert shifted his long coat, which was hanging from his shoulders, then pulled his gloves on tighter.

"He's envious that my looks are superior to his."

"Really."

"He longs for my impressive sense of humor."

"Honest, Robert!"

"He must have gain knowledge of my recent experiment."

"God dammit."

* * *

It was almost unbelievable to Rosalind, that a man so blinded by faith would be able to see her far better than anyone else. He saw her as a woman, a physicist, and a business partner. She was lucky if a common man saw her as even one of those options.

She had gratitude and respect for this man, but had yet to completely trust him. His name was Zachary Hale Comstock and he claimed to be a prophet.

"This is beautiful, simply beautiful." Comstock said as he watched Rosalind's last blimp float into the air. "I shan't ask how it does that, for I figured we'd be here all night."

"That depends if you'd like to know and understand the formulas." Rosalind placed her hands atop one another in front of her torso, "Then we'd be here for approximately 72 hours. And that's only if I talk fast."

"I understand me asking this of you had interrupted one of your studies?"

"It's quite alright, I needed a break."

"Building a flying apartment is considered a break for you?" Comstock laughed.

The two of them walked beside each other until they stood at the dock which led to a lighthouse up north. "Soon people will be able to live up there, in the new Eden." Comstock took Rosalind's hand and squeezed, "All thanks to you, my dear. You will join us up there, correct?"

She looked up, the city wasn't visible through the thick clouds, "I suppose. Where else would I work?" she retrieved her hand. "I don't suppose there's room for a woman like me down here anyhow."

They waited until a small boat pulled up beside the dock, the man inside it asked, "The lighthouse, then?" to which Rosalind gave a slight nod. Comstock sighed happily as he carefully stepped into the boat.

"I am looking forward to seeing you at the grand opening, Madam Lutece."

She raised her eyebrows, "Whatever for?"

"_Whatever for_, she says!" he exchanged laughs with the boat chauffer, "Dear, Rosalind I believe the people of Columbia would like to know and show appreciation to the one who built their new homes!"

"You'd want me seen in public? Won't you take the credit for the city?"

He seemed aghast, "Did I built it? Did I design it?"

"Well, no-"

"Exactly! Women should stop feeling so ashamed of themselves for doing what they love."

And with that the two men rowed off into the horizon.

* * *

"Did you hide the body?"

Robert sat on a crimson armchair with his legs crossed and his hands holding a notebook and pen. Peter walked in covered in dirt from head to toe. "What do _you _think?" he asked as he placed his hand on the chair opposite of Robert.

"Well don't sit! We still have much to do; Fink will be off to Columbia the day after tomorrow." Robert said as he leapt from the seat and pushed Peter out the door.

"Columbia? Columbia, what?"

"Columbia, Tennessee." Robert waved at his common car (carriage?) driver, implying he'd rather walk instead. His hand stayed on Peters shoulders to guide him, "Tennessee, why Tennessee?" he asked.

"Why anything, Peter?" Robert showed Peter the notebook he'd been holding "Here's Finks address, think we can _persuade _him to return my apparatus? They've taken an important atom of mine along with it."

"_I,_ for one think we should speak with Mr. DeWitt." Peter handed the notebook back to Robert and pointed to the apartment a few feet away.

"A private investigate? Whatever for?"

"_Whatever for, _he says!" It was Peters turn to guide Robert, "Why do all the work ourselves when he can- not only catch them but turn them in or kill them, depending on how much we pay him. We don't have to worry about the authorities."

"We wouldn't have to worry about the authorities otherwise. I am a Lutece, Peter. Who'd arrest _me_?" but before he could argue any further he was pushed through the door of Booker DeWitt's office. He almost tripped but managed to catch himself and stood straight, pulling his coat at the ends and placing his hands behind his back. "Mr. DeWitt!" he said before realizing who else was in the room, and froze.

In front of him and Peter were Mr. Dewitt and a lady they'd guess was Mrs. DeWitt. She had long, wavy black hair with shining blue eyes. If she had been single, and not pregnant, both Peter and Robert would have easily fallen in love with her. She had a gentle smile and curious eyes, something Robert loved in a woman; curiousness. Her belly was huge and definitely nine moths along.

"Oh," Robert finally said "apologies. I didn't mean to intrude."

The woman smiled, "It's fine, I was just on my way out." She kissed Mr. DeWitt and walked past Peter and Robert with a "Have a nice discussion, gentlemen."

She closed the door behind her and all three men sighed. "Quite the catch you have there, DeWitt." Peter commented. DeWitt leaned against his desk.

"What can I do for you?"

"Murder."

* * *

Rosalind was not a night person and everybody knew it.

The men Comstock hired to work for her had long since learned of her displeasure for the nighttime. "Work should be finished before evening tea." She always says. However, this night was different. She practically skipped around her laboratory with a child's smile plastered onto her face. Well, not really. Rosalind wasn't one to do that but it came close.

"Everyone shut up, please."

This night she said please.

She carefully placed her favorite atom in its place, "The Lutece Field will be progressing tonight, gentlemen. If this atom can suspend in mid-air, what else can it do? What can it lead me to?"

The men in her work parted their lips to answer.

"Rhetorical question, ladies. I already know." She picked up a complicated diagram her employees wished they understood. "Quantumly entangled atoms."

Her employees awed awkwardly. Rosalind sighed, "This can lead to Trans-Dimensional communication, and eventually… travel."


End file.
